


A Night in the Life

by StellaMachiavelli



Category: Vampire Chronicles - All Media Types, Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Lestat has no decorum, M/M, PWP, consort louis, i'm tired so here is the fic, prince lestat and the realms of atlantis verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 21:40:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10648596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellaMachiavelli/pseuds/StellaMachiavelli
Summary: Louis knows his duties at Chateau de Lioncourt. He's always been a professional when it's required of him.





	A Night in the Life

In his role as consort, Louis had many duties. He was a ground for Lestat, a devoted and tolerant partner who listened and comforted him when he had the weight of decisions and leadership upon his head. Too, he kept his promise to always be on Lestat’s side, and did not challenge Lestat in front of others but guided him with gentle words and gentle caresses. If the ancient ones did not really deign to listen to him (a consort should be pretty and obedient, above all, and they lauded him for his looks if they could not for the latter) they did know that if they wanted something from Lestat, the way through him was Louis.

But his most important task and, he had to grudgingly admit, his favorite, was ensuring that the Prince was bedded regularly enough and devastatingly enough that he could focus on his tasks in office properly.

They had sex most nights, though it was good to have the anticipation build between them and have a hungry, predatory Lestat distracted from some small Court tiff to focus on his own task of making sure that he had fucked his consort into the mattress. After all, there weren’t many indicators of his masculine prowess as efficient as fucking the quietest and most untouchable of them into a gasping, pleading man struggling to stop himself from screaming.

This was one of those nights.

He sat in Lestat’s lap, impaled on the Prince’s cock, riding him slowly while Lestat guided his hips with a hand on each one. Louis’s arms were locked around Lestat’s neck as he arched his own to his lover, shivering and gasping each time Lestat treated him to a bite, taking a short gulp of blood.

“Deeper,” said Louis, closing his eyes in focused delight. “ _Deeper_!”

Lestat pulled him down to meet his cock with a bruising grip, speeding up his thrusts. Louis clutched at him desperately, his nails digging into Lestat’s back as he was pounded mercilessly. Lestat maneuvered him by firmly clutching at his ass and raising him slightly so he could vary the angles at which he thrust into him. The lovemaking with Lestat was exhausting and it was rare he didn't come out of it feeling well fucked. 

"I can't hold on any longer," he panted against Lestat's ear.

"Then let it happen," growled Lestat, kissing his neck.

He arched against Lestat's chest, opening his thighs wider as every muscle in his body seemed to tighten unbearably, drawn like a bow. Thrust after thrust brought him closer to the edge, and then he clenched Lestat within him, his toes curled and he threw his head back as he fell apart in Lestat's arms.

He shuddered and moaned against his master as Lestat continued to thrust into him, harder now, frantic. 

Lestat moaned low in his throat as he came, his cock spasming inside Louis. He clutched at his lover, holding him pressed against his chest as he emptied himself within the warmth of his fledgling’s ass.

He loosened his bruising grip on Louis, rocking them both a little as Louis slumped against him, gasping. There came a faint knock at the door, and he ignored it.

“Tired already, my love?” he said teasingly.

“Already!” huffed Louis, pulling back a little to glower at him. “It’s been _two hours_. You’ve played me like an instrument.”

Lestat grinned and gave him a sloppy kiss. “Don’t tell me you don’t love the attenti--”

He broke off as the door opened, staring in disbelief as Thorne sheepishly poked his head around the crack.

“Really!” he snarled.

“I listened and I waited until you were finished,” Thorne protested.

Louis tensed in Lestat’s grip. “Oh, god!” he muttered.

Lestat cast Thorne a furious glance and motioned to him to stop speaking, which was hard to do while Louis simultaneously hid his face against Lestat’s neck and tried to push away from him. “Whatever it is, it can wait!” he snapped.

“We _really_ need you to--”

“Get out! I’ll be there soon!”

Thorne obliged with a quick slam of the door.

“Hush,” said Lestat, against the still-struggling Louis. “It’s okay, he’s gone.”

“Let me _go_ ,” said Louis crossly.

“Alright,” said Lestat. He released his grip on Louis, allowing him to dismount from his softening cock.

Louis stood up, wrapping the discarded sheet around his lean body. He looked deliciously tousled; Lestat reached for him, but he pulled away. “He saw us,” he frowned.

Lestat shrugged. “I’m pretty sure they knew what we were doing,” he said wryly.

“I am not okay with them _seeing_ it, and if it happens again, it’ll be the last time anyone ever has the opportunity.”

“Are you threatening me?” Lestat said belligerently, standing up.

Louis sauntered towards the bathroom. “I’m promising you,” he returned.

“Careful, Louis!” he said, baring his fangs. “I’ll pull rank.”

“Yes, of course you will,” said Louis. “I expect you’ll talk with Thorne.” He closed the bathroom door behind him.

Lestat stared after him. “I’m leaving you some clothes out!” he said finally.

“Yes, yes…”

“You _will_ wear them! That's an order, Pointe du Lac!”

 

* * *

 

 

Louis tired of the Court quickly that night; he often did, but it was a merciful night on which Lestat didn’t seem too bothered if he was at the Prince’s side. He retired to their chambers as soon as it was acceptable to do so, and spent a pleasant hour reading there, before drawing a bath and settling into the warm water to relax.

He had picked up a battered copy of _La Bete Humaine_ at the little bookstore in the village; he read at his customary leisurely pace, lost in the flow of the language, reading aloud some passages in a soft, measured voice when they struck him:

 

“ _With other women he had not been able to touch their flesh without experiencing the desire to devour it, as though ravenous with an abominable hunger to butcher them. But this one, could he then love her, and not kill her?_ ”

 

He put the book down on the little shelf next to the bath and dozed, lost in thought. There came movement from the other room, but he didn’t open his eyes until Lestat padded into the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself deftly.

“You were finally released from your duties?” he said, watching as Lestat undressed, dropping his expensive clothes onto the floor somewhat carelessly.

“Finally,” griped Lestat. “Two whole hours before dawn.”

Louis stretched out a hand in invitation; Lestat took it and stepped into the tub. He leaned back against his fledgling’s chest and let out a heavy sigh. “You know I enjoy it, all the coven around--”

“Of course,” said Louis placidly.

“But I’m allowed to be tired now and again, I’m allowed that, aren’t I?”

“Of course,” he said again.

Lestat closed his eyes. “Read to me,” he murmured.

“Now is that an order or a request?”

“Does it matter?” asked Lestat whimsically.

“No,” said Louis. “It doesn’t.”

He reached across Lestat and picked up his book again, starting from the beginning. Lestat barely moved or spoke as he read aloud, merely shifting slightly every now and again.

Louis swept his hands over Lestat’s scalp, caressing the thick blond hair, stroking it flat against his beloved’s skull. They would have sex again later, he knew. Sometimes words were not enough, but they knew their own secret language, and that was enough.  

 


End file.
